


Soft

by ShinyOrenjiMushroom



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU, M/M, Slight OOC, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26058166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyOrenjiMushroom/pseuds/ShinyOrenjiMushroom
Summary: Soft and Grimmjow were not synonymous. It wasn’t until he was dragging his bleeding body through a richer area in town to evade enforcers that he got a brush with “soft”.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 111





	Soft

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Black_Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Storm/gifts).



> This started as a companion to some gift art for Stormy. Um this was not supposed to be this dark, but somehow this weird idea of Ichigo being not completely good, having his inner hollow as a weird power called the devil’s tongue. Like a weird society with human-demon experiments. I’ll explain more at the end. Watch out for blood mention and strange stream of consciousness style writing. enjoy and thanks for reading

Soft and Grimmjow were not synonymous. He’d always been tough, rough around the edges, and with a sharp wit and sharper claws. He grew up not trusting anyone and developing a thick skin to protect himself and his abnormal abilities. Soft meant weak, meant you had exploitability. It was something he refused to have. He didn’t even trust his own family. Any relationships were for mutual benefits and kept at an arm’s length. Betrayal had been a routine part of his life. Keeping any information about himself private was safe. It wasn’t until he was dragging his bleeding body through a richer area in town to evade enforcers that he got a brush with “soft”.

*

Soft was a handsome doctor that had pulled his car over and offered aid. Soft was golden-brown eyes and long ginger hair. Soft was a stern voice telling him to take his jacket off. Soft were nimble, calloused fingers cleaning his wounds in the backseat of a modest sedan. And soft, was waking up on the couch of an empty clinic to the sound of a bubbling fish tank. 

“You made it through the night I see.” Soft...

Grimmjow’s eyes blurred by sleep as he opened them blearily. “The fuck am I?”

“My clinic.” Came from the desk across the office. 

“And who the fuck are you?” Grimmjow sat up and addressed the other man. 

“I’m doctor Kurosaki. You may call me Ichigo though. Doctor is too formal.” Came curt reply. 

“Well Ichigo, I ain’t paying for your service. I didn’t ask for your help.” Grimmjow snapped. 

“Wasn’t going to ask you to. I freely offered.” He shrugged. 

“Rich prick.” Grimmjow grumbled. “I don’t want to be indebted to you either.”

“Again, you’re not. I offered.” 

“That ain’t how this shit works. There’s always a price.” Grimmjow snapped. “Fucking richies always holding it over your head.”

Ichigo ignored the comment. “What’s your name?”

“What?”

“What’s your name?” He repeated. “I’ll take that as my payment.”

“The fuck are you on?” 

“There’s power in a name.” He flicked his wrist. “It’s payment enough.”

“It’s Grimmjow ya fucking weirdo.” 

“Grimmjow...”

And oh, there was soft again. He felt almost completely enraptured by the way the doctor had said his name. Soft and almost reverent. A sudden calm came over him and he tilted his head at the strange, fuzzy glow around the man. His smile was so pretty. He felt like he was floating until something snapped him back to reality. 

“What the fuck did you just do?” He jumped up pushing past the head rush at the quick movement. 

“I said your name.” Golden eyes gleamed playfully. 

“What kind of drugs did you give me?” Grimmjow growled. 

“Nothing more than simple acetaminophen I assure you.” He shrugged “Although you should probably take another round in about two hours. Those stitches are going to hurt.” He stood and held out an Rx note. “Prescription for the higher dose pain killer. The pharmacy around the corner will give them to you free of charge.”

“Is this some kind of hoax?” Grimmjow took the paper warily. 

“Come see me in two weeks and I’ll take the stitches out.” He tilted his head and smirked. “Or not, if you prefer.”

“Fuck off!” Grimmjow snarled as he stomped to the door. 

“See you around, Grimmjow.” Ichigo said airily causing him to pause with the same blissful feeling. 

——

One week found Grimmjow unknowingly walking back to the small clinic in the rich side of town. Under the cover of night he sought out the “soft” place. The warmth of a neon first aid side greeted him as he turned on the street as if he’d walked to path a million times before. He paused at the door wondering if it was even unlocked. The open hours were only listed until 9pm and it was well after. The soft glow of lights informed him that someone was still there. He tried the door and it opened with a small click. 

“Oi, Kurosaki! Come cut these damn itchy stitches out.” He yelled as he entered. 

“It’s nice to see you so soon Grimmjow.” A soft, knowing smirk and calm voice came from Behind the reception desk. “Come on back.”

Grimmjow shivered again at the way his name was called. The same bewitching sensation ran over him in waves. It both unsettled him and relaxed him. He didn’t understand the odd response to having his name called. This doctor had to have some strange abilities like himself. His eyes narrowed as he checked the hallway for any potential threats. He sniffed the air but only could smell the presence of the doctor verifying that they were alone. 

“Let’s do this quickly. I don’t fancy being here longer than absolutely fucking necessary.” He groused as he came to the exam table. 

“I promise not to waste your time.” Ichigo smiled as he put his gloves on. “Jacket and shirt off please.”

The soft snipping of medical scissors lulled him into an almost sleepy state. The newly healed wound itched where it had scabbed across his chest. It looked massive, and it was definitely going to scar, but it had taken to the stitches nicely. Ichigo inspected and cleaned it and then rubbed a balm over it to help with the dryness and scabbing. He stepped back when he was done and seemed to be studying Grimmjow. 

“You healed rather quickly and nicely. I’m surprised. As for the rest of the time, qScabs and light cracking are normal. Some ointment should help if it gets too uncomfortable.” He tossed his gloves in the hazardous waste basket. “Grimmjow, do come back if it gets red or starts to ooze or smell bad.” He smirked. “Or not.”

——-

Grimmjow found himself stumbling drunkenly through the doors of the Kurosaki clinic at 2am. It didn’t occur to him that it might be closed or the doctor not present. His head was pounding from taking a glass bottle to the temple. The guy had nearly gotten his throat ripped out in response. He hadn’t cared though. The office was quiet save for the bubbling tank and soft classical music coming from further inside. 

“Fucking Kurosaki! If you’re not here you should lock the damn door.” He slurred as he leaned on the wall. “Stop fucking hiding.” He tumbled after a sniff to the air. 

“Grimmjow.” 

The same calm voice seemed to clear his head of alcoholic haze and leave him feeling slightly nauseous and warm. His eyes cleared as he saw the doctor standing in the hallway. He wasn’t dressed in his typical scrubs. He took in Ichigo’s appearance- Ratty jeans, an old, pilled band shirt, and a messy ponytail. He looked... soft. 

“The fuck are you wearing?” 

“I don’t wear scrubs when I’m off duty.” He smirked. “Which I happen to be. What brings you here tonight Grimmjow?”

“Dunno. Was drunk, I think.” He slumped to the ground to sit. 

“Well, since you’re here, let me patch up your cut.” 

——-

The third time Grimmjow actively went to the clinic he was free of injury and outside influence. He was angry and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the oddity that was Kurosaki Ichigo. He didn’t trust what he didn’t have knowledge of and there was a lot of unknown about the doctor. Therefore, he did not trust that Ichigo had not done something to him the very first time he’d been brought in. He wrenched the door open calling out for him. 

“Kurosaki! You mother fucker! What the fuck did you do to me?”

“Grimmjow.” His voice was soft and elegant, but his eyes told a different story. 

“What bullshit are you pulling here?!” He screamed. “What kind of quack nonsense is this? You secretly drugging people?!”

“Quiet down Grimmjow.” Soft, but this time ominous sounding. 

His skin prickled at the new way his name fell from Ichigo’s lips. There was tension in the air and it felt like it was going to crack. Ichigo’s eyes seemed to glow with a simmering anger. Grimmjow could even smell the rising rage. It was enticing. Fangs and claws itched to sink into soft flesh. He licked the roof of his mouth taunting. 

“No. You’re pulling some crap here and I don’t like it.” His pupils slit as he watched Ichigo move almost silently. “Tell me what shit you’re doing or I’m going to tear this place to the ground! What the fuck did you do to me?!”

*

Soft was what the carpet felt like when he’d been punched over the reception desk with a busted nose and landed on his back. Soft was a cloth-covered ice pack resting on his face after a well deserved beat down. Soft was the texture of Ichigo’s torn jeans against his cheek where he’d been propped up. Soft was black lacquered nails combing through his hair as he became less disoriented. Soft was Ichigo’s voice as he explained how similar they were.

——

Each time he needed to calm down, heal an injury, or just lay low he found himself in the clinic in the dead hours of night. Sometimes he laid out quietly on the office couch watching the doctor do paperwork. Sometimes he inspected the various odds and ends in the exam room. Sometimes he pestered Ichigo just to get the heady feeling from having his name called with a warning in the tone. He lost count of the times he’d come by. It felt almost safe except...

“What are you anyway?” He’d asked after several months of visits. “You said we’re similar, but how? I couldn’t pinpoint it at first, but now I know for sure you don’t smell human.”

“I’m not. At least not fully. I’m taboo like you.” He looked up from his files. “Think of me as the power of persuasion.”

“Hah?!”

“The devil’s tongue, or demon speak, or the voice of the snake. Those are all what this ability is called colloquially.” He shrugged. “I’d assume that you noticed something before when I said your name?”

“Yeah. Whatever fuckery made my head feel foggy, ‘Cept when I came in here drunk. It cleared me up then.”

Ichigo smiled. “I could do more than make you feel calm or ‘foggy’. I could infect you with an idea just by calling your name.” He tilted his head. “But then I don’t get the opportunity to learn about you and occasionally punch you over the counter that way.”

Grimmjow barked out a laugh. “I’m not so sure that makes us similar. I’d gladly put my teeth around your throat though.”

“And how many people know about that attribute of you?” Ichigo asked an eyebrow raised, unafraid. “Were you born into it? Was it gifted to you? Or were your latent abilities the result of an experiment like mine?”

He stomped out cursing Ichigo’s name, vowing not to set foot in the clinic again. Prying questions he did not want to address or answer buzzed around his head. 

———

The rage he’d felt after being asked those questions didn’t stop him from going back to the clinic though. In fact, after a very vivid dream featuring Ichigo, after a few weeks, he found himself yanking the door open and stomping back to the office. Ichigo had looked up wearily from his work but not in surprise. His eyes met Grimmjow’s without fear. He crossed the room in large stride to pull the other up by the neck of his hoodie. 

“Did you do this to me?” He hissed angrily. “Did you influence me to think like this? To be tempted by you?”

“I have not used my power over your name for a long time.” Ichigo snapped at him voice even, truthful. 

Grimmjow believed him then as he dipped his head. “Same my name.” He growled itching for the heady feeling. 

“Only if you say mine too, Grimmjow.” He murmured. 

*

Soft was how a Ichigo’s lips felt when they kissed. Soft, the way he moaned as they parted for air. Soft was Ichigo’s hair as he yanked him back for another kiss. Soft was how Ichigo’s fingers felt curling into his shirt sleeves asking for more. Soft, the way Ichigo murmured his name. And soft was how he replied. 

“Ichigo...”

———

Grimmjow felt lulled into safety around the clinic. It was always late at night when he came by, but Ichigo was always there. He never took the time to wonder about it. It became a familiar routine. Once every few weeks he blasted through the doors just to be in Ichigo’s presence. The doctor never seemed to care and would go about his business. After an hour or so they’d talk a bit and then Grimmjow would kiss him and leave. 

A foreign scent and presence in the clinic one night put his hackles up. His eyes narrowed as he tried to identify the out of place person. He smelled mostly human, but there was an odd tinge of electricity in his scent. He was put on the defensive as the presence grew closer. He crouched low waiting with claws slightly elongated. A dark-haired man exited the hallway and pushed his glasses up and regarded him coolly. 

“The clinic is closed. You don’t look like you need treatment either.” His tone was clipped. 

“Naa, Ishida. That’s my boyfriend.” Ichigo’s voice came from behind. 

Grimmjow untensed slightly. He was waiting for Ichigo to say his name. It didn’t come though. Instead Ichigo gave him a knowing, secretive look from over the other man’s shoulder. Grimmjow stood straight up and gave the man a snarl at the disapproval in his face. Surprise flickered through ice blue eyes but the man otherwise showed no outward change. 

“Be careful Ichigo. There are dangerous people everywhere.” He sniffed as he stepped around Grimmjow to leave. 

“I know. Thanks for the concern.” Ichigo smirked. 

“Snooty prick.” Grimmjow called after him. 

“Grimmjow.” Ichigo sighed and oh there was the heady feeling again. 

“He’s right. Dangerous people.” Grimmjow smirked. 

“I know and I’m not afraid. What makes you think I’m also not one of those people?”

Grimmjow snorted. “You’re soft.”

“Am I?” Ichigo asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes. 

“Yes. Soft.” Grimmjow confirmed while backing Ichigo up to the wall with a smirk. “Why didn’t you tell him my name?”

“My cousin might not have my power but he is still a “uniquely skilled” individual. I told you there is power in names.” He smirked. “Grimmjow...” he growled out demonstrating. 

Grimmjow felt his head fog with already present lust. Suddenly he wanted to own Ichigo, wanted to mark him and possess everything about him. It wasn’t as if the thought hadn’t passed his mind before. But the urge now was overwhelming. His claws lengthened and dug into Ichigo’s shoulders as he pulled him close. 

“Grimmjow...” Ichigo uttered quietly and the spell was broken. 

He stared down at the other eyes wide and heart pounding. Ichigo merely smiled up at him eyes glowing with admiration. He’d never been gazed at like that. Wanted genuinely. It felt like a punch to the chest. He hoped for once that it wasn’t the weird power the other possessed. Ichigo gently grabbed his clawed fingers and just held them.

“Do you want that?” He whispered sweetly. “You can have that if you want.”

It was unsettling. Grimmjow frowned and pulled away suddenly. He felt all the years of distrust pile up on him. His mouth felt dry as he stepped back. Ichigo tilted his head in question. Grimmjow licked his lips wondering if it was that easy to just ‘have’ that.

“You’re a fool.” He said frowning. “I’m not a nice person. I’ve done nothing good.”

“What makes you think I’m good?” Ichigo asked. 

“You’re a fucking doctor. You help people. You say nothing and let me just come trash around in here.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m good.” His eyes glinted dangerously. “What do you know about me?”

“You’re not a killer like me.” Grimmjow huffed. “You don’t smell like blood.”

“I have killed though.” Ichigo easily admitted. “Gotten inside his head and dug in.” He smirked and His eyes shifted. “I choose not to kill because I can and do have that choice.” He stepped closer. “I don’t think you really have the choice not to.” he smiled crowded Grimmjow, lips brushing against his. “Right, Pantera?”

It wasn’t his true name, just his alias but it still gave him a full body shiver to hear it. He grabbed Ichigo again and kissed him hard. The effort was reciprocated equally. Ichigo bit his lips between kisses. He manhandled the doctor lifting him without breaking contact. He shoved him hard against the wall hips grinding chasing a frenzied lust. 

“Shhhh. Grimmjow.” The softness in his voice halted his rushed pace. “We have all night.” He whispered. 

*

Soft was the way Ichigo led him upstairs to the apartment above the clinic. Soft, the way the covers on the bed felt against his back as he laid down taking the other with him. Soft was Ichigo’s smile as he stripped away their layers. Soft, his sounds as they teased of rougher, better things to come. Soft, the moonlight spilling through the window and over Ichigo’s bare shoulders. Soft was his expression when they finally slid together the first time. And soft, was what Grimmjow felt the first time, after climaxing inside Ichigo’s willing body. 

———

The attachment Grimmjow felt to Ichigo was foreign but it possessed him. He hated the idea that anyone else might have Ichigo. It made his blood boil. Likewise he hated that he felt that way, so captivated. He scraped by doing dangerous jobs and killing as needed, while Ichigo had a steady, respectable job with no thoughts of when and where he might be the next day. Grimmjow had nothing to offer other than a good lay. He felt oddly insufficient. 

His thoughts did nothing to stop his visits. He never stayed the night though. Not wanting to wear out his welcome. Ichigo never asked him to leave and always told him he was missed. He was starting to trust Ichigo. That in itself was scary. There was still much he did not know but it started to fall away from his usual concerns. He trusted that Ichigo would answer any questions he asked truthfully, so he never asked. 

Each time he visited, he left with determination to take harder, higher paying contracts. He wanted to ‘give’ something to Ichigo. He wanted to show appreciation and possession. Selfish as it was, he wanted permanence. Ichigo never looked at him disapprovingly when he came to the clinic bloody and bruised from a job. He’d patch him up and then sometimes take him upstairs. Grimmjow liked the hungry look and growl in Ichigo’s voice each time it happened. He wanted to keep that. 

Each increasingly difficult job had him longing for some abstract concept of future with Ichigo. He cursed the shitty hand he’d been dealt. His ability to shift his form didn’t make up for all the hardship. For once he wished his family hadn’t sold him off when he’d shown extraordinary durability. Each time he saw the soft face Ichigo made after they fucked, he cursed the program that screwed him up. 

“Why don’t you stay?” Ichigo asked gently one night. “Stay here with me.” Hands came up go pull Grimmjow back down. “Stay with me Grimmjow.”

*

Soft was the extra pillow that had been pulled out just for him. Soft, his breathing as he slept. Soft was the way Ichigo’s foot slid up his leg to curl over his own. Soft, the moan he made as he stretched in his sleep. Soft was the comforting hum of the cycling AC that lulled him to relaxation. And soft was the smile and good morning greeting Ichigo gave him when the sun rose. 

———

Grimmjow had no business buying jewelry. It was a flashy, unnecessary accessory that could be exploited. Yet he found himself stopped by a simple carbon band with a skull etched in it. He didn’t know Ichigo’s ring size. Figured the doctor wouldn’t even wear it because he worked with his hands so much. But he couldn’t help but think of him. 

He passed by the same, small jewelry store every time he had to meet with his contact for assignments. After the third day, he cracked and stopped in. The jeweler was an elderly man with vast knowledge of metals and stones. Every inquiry was answered confidently from years of toil and experience. The piece would be pricy but he’d thrown in a silver chain just in case Ichigo wouldn’t or couldn’t wear it. Grimmjow agonized over it but eventually decided to go with it. The old jeweler has been shocked receiving a full cash payment for the piece, but Grimmjow wanted no debts and no way for the man to back out. 

He took another high stakes kill job that night. It had been going okay until some incomplete information got him in a bind getting chased by attack dogs. He’d taken care of his mark but his leg had gotten pretty damn mangled. He’d left the bastard to be eaten by his own dogs. Adrenaline got him to the clinic but his leg finally gave out as he got in the door. Ichigo merely shook his head with an exasperated smile and dragged him back to the exam room to fix his wounds. 

“Grimmjow, you’re not a chew toy.” He jokes as he cleaned and sutured. 

“Shut up Ichi.” He groused but without much bite. “You try fighting off a pack of starving, abused mongrels.”

“Did you kill them?” He asked lowly. 

“Some. Shoulda put all of ‘em out of their misery.” He shrugged. “Nah, a more fitting end for them to gorge themselves on that bastard.”

“Death would have been kinder.” Ichigo remarked. 

“You would say that softie.” Grimmjow snorted. 

“They’re going to suffer needlessly, but you did give them revenge though. Dogs remember you know.” Ichigo smirked as he cut the final stitch. “You good?” He asked when he was done. 

Grimmjow clipped his teeth at the doctor. “I’d be better if you fucked the pain away.”

“Oh?” Ichigo discarded his gloves and climbed on the table over Grimmjow. “I know you heal quickly, but not that quickly. If you want it, you’ll have to give control to me. Think you can do that?” His eye glittered mischievously. 

“Fuck yes.” Grimmjow uttered intrigued at the concept. 

It’s was everything except soft...

———

The day he got the ring had him on pins and needles. He’d thought about what to say several times but his mind came up blank. He went through every horrible scenario in which the ring was rejected. If Ichigo refused the gift, then he vowed it would be his last visit to the clinic. He’d put it out of sight and mind and will himself to forget the doctor. It was what he expected the most but hoped for the least. 

Waiting until night was the hardest. He didn’t want the clinic to be an easy target, not that he really needed to worry. Still though, Ichigo was his alone. The smell of disinfectant hit his nose before he even opened the door. It burned his senses, but he could also smell the tinge of blood and burnt flesh. A pit formed in his stomach and he pushed past until he made it to the back of the clinic. He found Ichigo scrubbing a bloodied lab coat in the sink. 

“Grimmjow. Sorry for the smell. I know it hurts your nose.”

“Ichi, what happened?” He growled. 

“Nothing serious. Someone made a mistake. I was just cleaning up the awful mess he made.” He tilted his head back to smile at Grimmjow. 

“Smells like a burning corpse.” 

“Well, it was a fatal error.” Ichigo laughed in a distorted way. 

“You gonna tell me what happened?” Grimmjow crossed his arms and leaned on the door. 

“Enforcers have no jurisdiction here. Wrong side of town and in a medical facility to boot.” He smirked. 

“What did he want?” Ice ran in his veins. 

“Wanted to know if my office was harboring criminals. Threatened my staff. That was mistake number one. Number two was when they barged into the reception office demanding medical records. Which of course are confidential anyway. And mistake three was when they put their hands on me.” His smile twisted slightly. 

“I would murder the bastard-“

“As you can see you do not need to go to such drastic measures.” He tilted his head. One decided to take his own arm off with my paper cutter. The other sprayed himself with bleach and set himself on fire.”

“The fuck?”

“Truly shocking. It left a giant mess and scared my staff. I had to close the office early.” He sighed as if it was an every day occurrence. “The morgue already came to get what was left of the bodies.”

“But nothing will happen to you right?” Grimmjow asked coming closer. 

“It sounds like you’re worried about me Grimmjow.” Ichigo smiled brightly. 

“You dumb shit. Of course I am. I want to keep you.” He snapped his mouth shut. “I mean— Ah fucking dammit.” He reached in his pocket and pulled the small case out. “I ain’t got permanence or even anything to offer, but fuck if I don’t want something with you.”

Ichigo’s smile softened and he walked closer to Grimmjow. “What do you want Grimmjow?” He whispered purposely drawing his name out. 

“Shit, I’ll probably die young and never get a future or anything lasting. I want you though.” He paused. “And whatever this soft shit is that you’ve given me.” He roughly shoved the box at Ichigo his cheeks burning furiously. “Swear you’ll wear the damn thing even if I bite it.”

“Oh Grimmjow.” Ichigo murmured reverently while slipping the ring on. “If you were killed, I’d flay the person that did it slowly and make sure they felt every single rib being broken as I tore their chest open.” He whispered with a dark chuckle. “Then I’d eat their heart for breaking mine.”

Grimmjow shivered at the dark, sharp tone. “Same goes me for yea? ‘Cept I’d crush their heart in my hand while they choked on their own blood.” He leaned over and kissed Ichigo. 

“Let’s go upstairs.”

*

Soft was how he kissed Ichigo’s shoulders as he pressed him into the sheets. Soft, how his name was called begging for more. Soft was how his skin felt as they pushed together. Soft was how he held Ichigo too him as he chased climax. Soft, the way Ichigo admired the ring after they came back down. And soft was the fuzzy dreams of the future as he slept soundly for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot. I don’t plan to expand on this at all. So this is set in a futuristic society where people are being experimented on to develop demon powers. Some have an affinity for them and become strong and unpredictable. Grimmjow was born into some alreadY demon-tampered DNA so when he showed durability/ violent nature, his family sold him off for a large sum to be free of him. Of course he got tortured and grew stronger and learned to shift forms.
> 
> Ichigo is an odd amalgamation of tampered DNA and genetic affinity for said abilities. Except tampering went too far and he went a little off kilter. The Devil’s tongue ability lets him essentially control a person or strike fear into them. He technically doesn’t need a name to use it, but it has a more direct effect if he does. He’s used it to kill and silence people so that his abilities and history don’t get out. Much like Grimmjow kills physically to protect himself, Ichigo does it covertly. Genuinely he wants to help people and hates the government set up. Being a doctor allows certain permissions and evasion. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a chance coming together of two wronged and fucked up people. I wanted to stress the difference in how they carried themselves with the use of “soft” descriptions. Hope you all enjoyed it. Go on my Twitter if you want to see the art.


End file.
